I’ll think I’ll just assume that only a couple of people are going to read this stuff and use it as a diary. Everything I write keeps getting lost. I had a long and interesting correspondence …that had to be completely deleted because the correspondent wanted to explore the kind of internet boundaries that are…dangerous for married people, and it became something I couldn’t risk my husband seeing.
Regarding husbands, how can somebody share covers for fifteen years and then suddenly need to wrap himself up like a caterpillar? I woke up an hour ago freezing and itchy, having somehow gotten stuck with one scratchy comforter. Take an Alka-Seltzer and a Zoloft, go back to bed, Brago.